


Past Present

by drwhogirl, JWade



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 14:17:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13191852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drwhogirl/pseuds/drwhogirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JWade/pseuds/JWade





	Past Present

Mick wasn’t sure what to think right now. Just hours ago he’d killed his best friend, now he was being moved out of his room and in with someone he didn’t know. The only positive he could see was that he wouldn’t have to stare at Timothy’s empty bed across from his.

As he entered the room, there was nobody there. He could see that one of the beds was messy and lived in whilst the other had obviously been recently stripped and changed. Assuming that was his, he sat down and proceeded to lose himself to his thoughts.

He didn’t stay that way for long though as about half an hour after he arrived the door opened again. A boy stood in the doorway. He didn’t seem to notice that Mick was there at all. The boy had dark hair that was sticking up in every direction and his clothes were ruffled and covered in blood.

Mick wasn’t really sure what he should do. The boy seemed to be completely catatonic and was clearly in shock.

“Are you alright?” Mick asked, feeling slightly worried as the boy hadn’t made any effort to move.

The sound of Mick’s voice made the other boy jump. “Who are you? Get out of Alex’s bed.”

Mick chose not to argue and got off the bed, instead sitting at the desk on the edge of the room. “I’m Mick Davies. And you are?”

“Arthur Ketch. Why are you in my room?”

“I’m your new roommate.”

“I don’t want a new roommate. I want my old roommate.”

“Where’s your old roommate?” Ketch didn’t answer, not verbally anyway. Instead he just looked down at his blood soaked clothes. Soaked with Alex’s blood, Mick realised. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Mick stood and, gently placing a hand on his arm, lead him to the wardrobe. Mick opened it and started pulling out clothes to pass to Ketch. As each item was passed over, Ketch removed and replaced the corresponding item from his person.

Before long, Ketch was looking... not better but at least cleaner.

Mick took the boy over to his own bed and sat him down. “Is there anything I can do?” Mick asked. He knew what the boy must be feeling and wanted to do everything he could to help.

“Not unless you can get me my brother back.” Maybe Mick didn’t know what he was going through after all. He was slightly alarmed when that seemed to break down the last of Ketch’s barriers and the boy started crying, burying his face in his hands.

Unsure what else he could do, Mick sat down and wrapped his arms around the other boy. It was only when Ketch had cried himself to sleep that mick allowed his own tears to fall both for the loss of his friend and for the boy now sleeping on top of him.

* * *

 

Twenty years later, those two boys had grown up. Mick had done everything he could to put the other boy back together but every time he tried, the men of letters broke him down further. Until, finally, Mick would look at his friend and not recognise the boy looking back at him. Ketch had closed himself off. Hidden behind walls where he didn’t have to feel anything, because feeling hurt too much.

There was a point, a very long time ago, when Mick had considered Ketch to be his best friend. Where, for a brief and shining moment, they had been more. Almost as soon as Mick moved in, Ketch’s bed had become their bed. At first it was to help the nightmares but as their relationship progressed it gradually took on more meaning.  
All of this was racing through Mick’s mind as he stood in their old room.

“There a reason you’re standing in the door?” An irritated voice came from behind him.

Mick moved to allow Ketch entry. He’d been tempted to make a remark about Ketch’s lacking manners but on catching sight of the man, thought better of it.  
Ketch looked awful. He’d clearly come straight from a difficult hunt and was sweaty and covered in blood.

Mick couldn’t help thinking of that first day. But this time, Ketch didn’t need his help.

The man was already undressing as he headed towards the adjoining bathroom. As Mick sat on his bed, he could tell this was going to be a long reunion.

When Ketch returned, he took the chance to study Mick closely. Mick had his nose buried in a book and hadn’t looked up when Ketch entered the room but could see out of his peripheral vision that he stood there in only a towel. That realization caused Mick to focus even harder on the book, to the point where he couldn’t even read the book anymore. It was just a way to not look at Ketch. He had too many memories of Ketch in this room to keep his mind from going into overdrive.

Ketch didn’t make any effort to get dressed, instead he watched Mick. He wasn’t sure when the man became so gorgeous, but he had the sudden urge to take that book off him and kiss him senseless. In many ways, Ketch had control of iron. He had trained himself not to react to anything he didn’t want to react to, or show anything that he didn’t intend to show. It was why most people thought of him as cold and heartless. There had always been something about Mick though that caused his careful control to falter, and this time was no different.

He fought with himself for a good long time before he couldn’t help but act. He stepped forward and slammed Mick into the wall, not even caring about the priceless tome that fell to the floor in the process as his lips met Mick’s and any sense of keeping control flew out of his head. “K-ketch?” Mick said confused.

“Shh,” Ketch replied, giving a sharp nip to Mick’s neck as he released the smaller man’s hands from where they were pinned against the wall. That was all it took for his hands to be everywhere as Ketch quickly stripped Mick’s shirt off, barely keeping enough control not to pop the buttons. He felt a tug on his towel before it fell to the ground and he spun Mick around, plopping him on their old bed and they both winced as the springs gave a protesting squeak.

Ketch put the thought from his mind though as he was quickly stripping off Mick’s pants before sliding on top of him. He gave an impatient huff as they barely fit on the bed anymore. This used to be so much easier. “Art,” Mick moaned as he felt a finger slip into him, falling back into the old name as easy as breathing. Having him like this again in this room it was like the years were just falling away. His lips were to busy to speak again as Ketch’s tongue plundered his mouth desperately and he felt himself being stretched out. He remembered the pain from the first time they had done this all those decades ago, when they had been young and naïve and hadn’t known to do that. They had learned though. Oh they had learned so much in this room together.

He was pulled back to the present when Ketch nudged him to flip over, and he did so, getting his knees under him quickly before he felt Ketch’s length sliding in with a familiar burn, and then warm hands were pulling at his shoulders, pulling him up to his knees before wrapping around his chest and stomach and Ketch’s lips were trailing over his neck and shoulders as he thrust hard and fast. “Art,” Mick whispered breathlessly again.

“Mick,” he heard in response and that one word was filled with so much longing and passion that it was a good thing Ketch was holding him up or he would have crumbled. Mick felt a warm hand wrap around his length and start stroking in time with the desperate thrusts and he knew neither of them would last long, and he was right. It seemed like no time at all before they were moaning their release together, before flopping onto the bed. Ketch almost falling off. “I swear these beds have shrunk,” he grumbled.

Mick couldn’t help but laugh. “I think it’s more that we’ve grown, mate.”

* * *

 

The following morning, Mick awoke to a comfortable weight on top of him. He couldn’t help smiling and reached out a hand to stroke Ketch’s soft hair. He knew they would probably need to talk later but he hoped against all hope that maybe they could reclaim what they lost.

“What time is it?” Ketch grumbled into his pillow, moving his head a little closer to allow Mick easier access.

Mick glanced at his watch. “About 5am.”

“Guess we should be getting up.”

“Guess you should be getting up. You’re the one that takes forever Princess.” Mick had only used that nickname when they were dating, usually when Ketch was acting particularly upper class, after they had broken up it had fallen into disuse. The use of the nickname hadn’t even occurred to Mick until he saw the hope on the other man’s face.  Mick had to fight his own hope that maybe, just maybe, they could make this work. Now wasn’t the time to discuss it so Mick gave him a quick peck on the lips before shooing him in the direction of the bathroom with a promise they would discuss it later.

The reunion started at 7am. Mick wasn’t even sure why they were having a school reunion. He assumed it was a ‘congratulations for surviving this long’ but really he thought it was probably just a way for Hess to check up on them. He was so tempted to just skip out but he knew that wasn’t an option.

Ketch could apparently sense Mick’s indecision and placed a reassuring hand on the small of his back.

As they crossed the threshold, it didn’t occur to Ketch that he might want to move his hand and he completely failed to notice the twin glares they were receiving from the other side of the room.

The moment Ketch left his side, Mick found himself cornered by a rather tipsy Toni.

“I see you two are back together then. Finally got over him sleeping with me did you?”

“Shut up Toni.”

“What makes you think he won’t do it again? We had a great time together and we both know you’re not actually good enough for him. Never were.” Toni’s tone was light as if that of someone discussing the weather but there was an underlying steel to her words.

“And you are?” Mick didn’t look or sound even remotely convinced. Trying to push out of mind for a moment just how much she was hitting every single insecurity he’d ever had about the relationship.

“Of course. I’m a legacy. He deserves a legacy over some common street rat.”

“That’s a very superficial way of looking at the situation.”

“As if you’re never superficial. Tell me Mick, did you ever talk to him about what happened that night in your bed? I thought slipping him ecstasy was genius personally. Doctor Hess thought it might be a little heavy handed but I got a great lay and she got you two split up as requested.” Toni apparently hadn’t realised two things. Thing one: that she’d said far too much already. Thing two: that Ketch was now stood right behind her.

“Why would she want that?” Mick asked, seeming significantly calmer than he actually felt at this moment.

“Because your relationship was getting in the way of his training. It’s already unravelling after a single night, just look at him.” It was at that moment she realised he was stood right behind her, as she’d attempted to gesture to him and make her point.

She couldn’t help stepping back at the look on his face but for every step back she took, Ketch took one forward until she was stuck with her back to the wall.

Ketch wasn’t sure what he was going to do but a hand on his shoulder stopped whatever it was in it’s tracks. “That’s enough Art.” He gave Mick a confused glance, surely he had to be as mad as Ketch was. “You can’t kill her or they’ll kill you and she’s not worth that.” Much as Ketch hated to admit it, he saw Mick’s point and allowed himself to be led away. Their drinks long forgotten, they went in search of a cupboard or an empty classroom. They both needed to let off a little steam.


End file.
